Disgraceful!

I know, I know. It's seems like forever since I last posted. Thankfully, my husband feels genuine pangs of guilt if we don't keep the blog active. I don't suffer guilt so he gets to update regularly. The man's turning into a real blogger… as opposed to yours truly who blogs occasionally. (He also exaggerates mightily.)

SWAT!

Tsk

We're in Cape Breton – cool days, freezing cold nights, a lot of rain - gorgeous when it's over the Atlantic. I'm in heaven!

His Holiness is in protective mode – "wear this, wear that, stay out of the rain, etc." I'm in ignoring him mode and to ensure my safety, I keep the Rotts and Mastiff close.

Took a short detour down to Chicago for a couple of days. A constant from my childhood – Molly from Molly's Diner – the lady who fed all the hungry kids in my neighborhood growing up – passed away. I've never written much about Molly; she was a particularly private person and a really generous one. One day I'll have to tell you about her huge heart and her creative ways to feed the hungriest of us without patronizing. Huge crowds of adults came to her funeral; some I knew, many were strangers. Those who spoke sang high praise to this woman who kept many of us from starvation and who hid us when the social workers came around looking for us. I'll always be grateful that she had a special place in her heart for us ragamuffins.

Henry, our Canuck cat has finally won over the dogs – still working on DomTom. Apparently our cat has a definite bias against Canadian cats. Cowboy refers to Henry as that "wandering waste of fur" and "Fitzroy." Fitzroy is the name given to Henry the VIII's royal bastards. Fitz=bastard; roy=royal. I had no idea ole Henry was able to procreate felines…

Cowboy is getting O-L-D! He had a birthday first of June. Tsk! Another one! I felt sorry for the old guy and ate most of his cake and ice cream. This did not go over very well and when he got itchy hands I set the dogs on him. He's still kinda spry but there's no doubt he's slowing down.

SWAT!

Tsk

Bundling up to sit on the deck to watch the sun set over the water – brisk breezes, gorgeous sunset, hovering giant squid. I'm planning to anoint the next full moon with a naked dance. However… first I have to chase the squid into a closet and lock the door. Trying to dance and dodge the Neanderthal is a lot of work. I thought I'd leave some peachy things warm from the oven to distract him. Cross your fingers for me! Sometimes I just gotta dance!

~Sar~